Random (Going the Distance) by Lark O'Neal Page B

in my chest and glitter pours through my veins like a magic potion. “Good.”
    The server brings coffee and two tall, thin glasses of red juice. “House special this morning is watermelon juice. Enjoy.”
    I raise my eyebrows and pick up the glass. “Have you ever had it before?”
    “I come here quite a bit. I live close by.”
    “In Manitou?” I test the juice, and it’s not only delicious, it’s one of the top five things I’ve ever tasted. I gulp a big mouthful. “Oh, my God, that’s amazing!” I close my eyes, sip again. “So refreshing.” I narrow my eyes. “Is there cucumber in it?”
    Tyler grins, watching me. “Whoa, there, Ms. Top Chef.”
    I blush and put the glass down. “Sorry. Got carried away. People always give me a hard time about that.”
    “People?”
    I shrug, but I’m pretty sure he knows I mean Rick. The whole band. I think of Jake last night, calling me a cunt, and my throat fills up with acid. Why have I put up with them for so long?
    Tyler puts a hand on my arm, his thumb falling to my inner wrist like he’s going to take my pulse. “I shouldn’t have teased you about your palate. I meant it in a good way.” His thumb moves. “You make me a little nervous.”
    “ I make you nervous?” I let go of a laugh. It sounds a little too loud at the end. “That’s pretty funny.”
    “Why?”
    “Well, you’re…older. And more accomplished.” I shrug a little. “And you’ve, like, been to college.”
    “I don’t know what I’ve accomplished.” His eyes peer right through all my defenses and directly into my brain. It’s almost too much, but I can’t seem to look away. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He frowns. Shrugs a little. “It’s like I knew you when I first saw you.”
    “Is that some kind of line?” It’s so extravagant I’m sure he thinks I must be stupid.
    “No,” he says clearly. “It’s like I can’t quite remember your name.”
    I have no idea what to say. My heart is racing and I like the feeling of his hand but I’m not the kind of person who believes in the otherworld.
    Except that maybe I am.
    Tyler straightens, taking back his hand. “Now you’re going to think I’m that crazy guy.”
    “No,” I say. It gives me a little more confidence that he stepped out there first.
    The server brings our food, thank God, because it’s getting kind of awkward and I don’t know how to fix it, and I really do like him. The waffle is almost two inches thick, with a big scoop of melting butter in the middle. Maybe to balance things out a little, I say, “I dreamed this morning that my mom made me waffles. They smelled just like this.”
    He grins, picks up his fork and starts to eat his eggs. “Where’s your mom? Does she live in town?”
    Spreading the butter carefully over the waffle, making sure that every square has some, I shake my head. “She died four years ago. Freak accident—an icicle hit her in the head.” I mime it, a sword of ice piercing her brain. “Died instantly.”
    He’s taken aback, but there’s no way to make it softer. It’s awful and, no matter how other people feel about it, it’s worse for me. I pick up the metal container of hot syrup and drizzle it over the waffle, making long x’s to complement the butter.
    Finally he says, “That’s really sad, Jess. I’m sorry.”
    I blink hard, focusing on the food, and take a bite of my waffle. “This is really good.”
    He takes the cue. “I don’t know anybody who checks books out of the library anymore. Do you go a lot?”
    “Yeah.” I sip my coffee, hot and sweet, and take another bite of waffle and then one of bacon, my stomach so happy to have substantial food that I don’t even really want to talk, not even to the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever met. “Usually every couple of weeks. I really like to read, but this morning I was using the computer to apply for jobs.”
    “You don’t have a computer?”
    “No.” I give him a half-grin. “You saw